Flowers of the Dead
by Raquiesha
Summary: Thedas is on the verge of turmoil. Elissa Cousland is, together with Alistair and Solona Amell, forced to fight against the corruption that spreads through the land as well as the Court. Their mission will result in lives lost, challenged beliefs, changed morals and hearts conquered. And maybe this story might give us the final answer to the question; Is duty the death of love?
1. Prologue

**9:21 Dragon**

**The Royal Palace, Denerim, Ferelden.**

Elissa's heart fluttered as her eyes met with Leona Trevelyan's form across the cramped ballroom. The beating organ pounded against her ribs, its beats in tune with the joyous music that played in honor of their King's 43rd birthday.

Elissa could hardly contain a most sheepish smile when Leona bowed to the king. She looked resplendent. How long had it been since they last met?

Too long.

She was quick with turning her yearning eyes down her chalice. To allow herself to keep gazing upon her lover would have been foolish. The surrounding press of bodies would never be their hiding place or sanctuary. Whispers behind poised hands were deadlier than poisoned daggers.

And Elissa knew that, in this room of celebration, her eyes were naught but prisoners of civilized war, her heart chained by societal standards, her mind not her own, belonging to the will of her peers.

Elissa closed her eyes, feeling dizzy. Why was she not allowed to be who she desired? In a burst of rebellion - pacific defiance, the only defiance she knew, she raised her gaze, landing on Leona yet again. She was standing next to her great aunt, Lucille Trevelyan, conversing with nobles dressed in the fur of threatened species. Elissa hoped that Leona knew to seek her out, when the cue of people she had to greet narrowed down.

On the walls, trophies of kills were displayed, the beads in their blinded eyeballs watching the wickedness of the royal feast. This banquet was not more than an illuminated graveyard, with nameless tombstones swirling around the dancefloor, decorated in the vivid colors of Satinalia.

It was far from the first time the Cousland family, consisting of the Teyrn and Teyrna of Highever and their two children, Fergus and Elissa, had gone to Denerim to attend a luxurious feast. Only this time, it was different. Elissa hid her frown with her glass as she remembered why. Fergus wanted to get betrothed.

"It is time, dear family,'' he had said with a wry smile one morning a few weeks before King Maric's birthday, while the Couslands sat at their dinner table. "It is time for me to get married".

His sudden statement had taken her by surprise. Even if she knew that it was about time that the heir to Highever got married, she didn't want anything to imperil their sibling bond. Their parents - Eleanor and Bryce Cousland, had, on the other hand, smiled and immediately hosted several gatherings and visited acquaintances with willing daughters and... Well, it was no secret that they longed for grandchildren and future heirs that would fill Castle Cousland with life.

Elissa sipped on the sweet wine and smothered a grimace as she felt a bead of sweat trickle down her back. The crowded room was indescribable warm, and as she let her gaze wander across the ballroom, she paused at a lady who cooled herself with an Antivan fan. She must have sensed Elissa's eyes upon her, because she looked right at her, and shut the fan immediately before sauntering away. Elissa averted her gaze, her cheeks heating, and continued to let her eyes roam.

In the middle of the dancing crowd, her friends Anora Mac Tir – the only daughter to Teyrn Loghain, and the Fereldan Crown prince Cailan Theirin whirled around in a formal dance, sending each other small smirks. Their backs were straight and their chins tilted up. True aristocrats down to the very marrow. Still, Elissa tensed at the sight. Even though Anora had told her that they held no romantic feelings for one another, they seemed… content, satisfied, even, with their lot.

Marital satisfaction? Elissa was close to snorting at the thought. It was something she never would achieve.

She began striding across the room with careful but unwavering steps, seeking for Leona who had vanished from her sight . Amongst all guests, she saw Fergus strutting around. Adorned with a charming smile, he mingled with the yet unmarried women. Elissa clenched her jaw at the display, before remembering where she was. Here, he no longer was the jesting brother she looked up to, no; here he was a noble, a handsome bachelor whom the ladies flocked around in hope to gain not only his hand but also wealth and title.

Teyrns and Teyrnas were, after all, second only to Kings, and with only two teyrnirs left in Ferelden, it was a rare opportunity for fortune-seekers. It was obvious that the low-born nobles were especially obtrusive, and the sight forced Elissa to stern herself not to eye roll. Fergus didn't seem to mind the attention at all.

She continued sipping her wine and shifted her attention from Fergus to the rest of the attendants. She recognized several of them, including King Maric's two brothers-in-law, the Bann of Rainesfere and his older brother the Arl of Redcliffe. Eleanor had with sparkling eyes told Elissa that the arl once had caused a scandal by marrying an Orlesian noblewoman. It had almost ruined his relationship with his sister, the late Queen Rowan, and of course, her husband King Maric.

Elissa sighed. While she was not much for gossip, it was a crucial part of her life. She had been taught that plots and uproars could be hindered, bastards discovered, alliances founded or crumbled because of the whispered words.

Nathaniel Howe, one of Fergus' best friends and oldest son to her father's comrade-in-arms Arl Rendon Howe, nodded a familiar greeting to her as they were about to pass each other. She tensed as he paused his steps, hesitated, as if he was to say something. What if…?

"Lady Cousland", he said.

_No, no, no..._

"Lord Howe,'' she said, fingers pressing harder around the chalice.

His eyes twinkled, and Elissa relaxed her grip at that, flashing a small smile. They had not met since the time he proposed, an offer she - to her mother's chagrin - quickly denied. Elissa assumed that Nathaniel was as pleased with the outcome as herself.

"I thought you were still in the Marches?" Elissa asked.

"Father wished me to attend…" he gestured at the room, "well, this. How was I to say no?"

"Oh," Elissa said. "As you can see, Fergus was glad to come here". A hint of bitterness colored her words.

Nathaniel smiled. It was a shame, she thought to herself, that she felt nothing for him. He was not only pleasant to rest one's eyes on - he would have been a good husband. Whoever got him to leave his life as a bachelor, was bound to be a lucky woman.

"I indeed can". He gazed upon her brother, who emptied a chalice while speaking to the daughter to one of Denerim's banns. "Sadly, I am is still mending from an utterly severe case of a broken heart." He dared to waggle a pointing brow, causing Elissa to let out a muted giggle. "I bid you a good evening, Ellie, and I hope we may meet again before my return to the Marches".

"Something tells me that we will," Elissa said, her smile genuine. "Nate".

He inclined his head and disappeared in the breathing crowd of people. Elissa went to stand in a corner, waiting. With a flick of her wrist, she swirled her glass of red wine as she stood next to the wall, longing to lean against it. The courtly code hindered her, and she possessed no wish to break the etiquette.

As she stared down the glass, a hand brushed her shoulder. She stiffened.

"How pleasant it is to see you here, Your Ladyship".

She knew that voice. Leona. A smile tugged Elissa's lips, and she turned towards the honey voice.

"Likewise, my lady", Elissa said, losing herself into her eyes. But only for a mere moment. They could not afford more than that.

Leona bowed, as the courtly creed required when greeting a higher-ranked noble. Elissa's lips finally curled.

"Come", she then whispered, her weak voice drowning in the sound of music and laughter. Elissa gave a subtle nod, and side by side, they began to walk through the throng towards an empty balcony. Out there - hidden behind heavy, embroidered curtains, they would find the temporary freedom they craved.

Their hands hang close, nearly touching, fingers almost locked together. But a wailing void filled with responsibilities separated them. When their bodies crashed into one another as they worked their way through the crowd, they continued to stare steadily forward, despite the longing screams of their shackled hearts.

It was first when they stepped out on the balcony, escaping the perfume-laden ballroom, their marching ended. Their straight backs slouched, their high chins sank. The moon glinted in their eyes, as they finally let down their guards.

Leona pulled Elissa closer, fingers digging into the thin fabric at her waist. Lips softened by wine met, but the kiss did not last long. Leona withdrew, panting for air. She stared into Elissa's heavy-lidded eyes, her vision disturbed by the nest of hair that had fallen down her face, escaping her bun.

_Maker, help me. How am I to tell her that what we have is coming to an end?_

A cool breeze hit them and pulled in the locks of their hair. Leona tried to calm her beating heart, taking another deep breath, letting her lungs fill with brisk air. The floral scent of elfroot smoke wafted from Elissa's locks. Leona smiled wanly, as she raised her hand, whirling a strand around her fingers.

_Will this very moment come back to point a square finger at me, telling me what I am about to do is a mistake? This moment, our last time. Oh, sweet Andraste, give me your strength._

Leona took a step back, leaning her back against the jagged stone wall. A brick chafed her back, threatening to tear the expensive textile of her dress apart. For once, she did not care. She needed the support, the stability. Yet, she readjusted her shoulders, moving away from the chafing brick.

Alright, she thought. Maybe I do care a little.

She then let out a heavy breath between her swollen lips, and decided to gaze right into Elissa's eyes. Her stomach swirled, her palms grew damp. She opened her mouth, only to close it again. The murmurs from the ballroom dulled her ability to think, and she damned them for it. She turned her face, staring at the open doors. She could stay quiet and leave. Elissa did not need to hear this from herself - the word would spread soon enough.

_Maker, I beg you. Help me._

"How have you been?"

The slight curl of Leona's lips twitched. The sincerity in Elissa's voice made it impossible for her to lie, to keep quiet. Elissa caressed Leona's arm, the warmth of her palm radiating through the sleeve into her skin. Leona swallowed the lump in her throat. The lump did not disappear, instead, it grew larger, choking whatever words she could come up with. Thus, she answered only with a light squeeze on Elissa's shoulder. Her heart picked up speed once again, punching at her ribs.

_Tell her. Tell her. __**Tell her!**_

She swallowed twice, preparing herself to tell the truth, hoping that sheer force would make the lump disappear.

She succeeded, but her voice was rough, croaking. "Have you read my letter, Ellie?"

Elissa's brows knitted. _Why is she acting so oddly_? She bit the tip of the tongue. No, she could not simply ask her. It would be folly - she could not bring it to embarrass herself in front of Leona.

Instead, she asked, "Which one?"

"Silly…" Leona began. Her eyes flickered, her face blanched only to the next moment become rosy. "The latest one…".

From inside the ballroom, they heard King Maric's baritone voice fill the room's every corner, silencing the music and laughter. Leona fidgeted, and listened, before returning all attention to Elissa. They did not miss a thing – it was only another wine indulged speech.

Elissa recalled what Leona a few weeks ago had mentioned. She and her little sister, Evelyn, had fallen off a horse, an accident that ended with Leona breaking her arm. Her eyes widened at the realization.

"Oh, Maker! Leona, I am terribly sorry! I forgot."

Elissa's eyes were downcast and her cheeks red, as she pulled back her hand from Leona's arm, hoping their physical contact had not caused her any pain.

"Did a healer not take care of it?" A beat, and her tone grew accusatory. "You should have said something,'' she complained. Her lips thinned, and Leona could not help but snicker lightly.

"No, no, it is not that." Her snicker died out, and she turned her head away, facing the illuminated castle garden. An owl hooted in the distance. "I am about to get… Oh. You will not believe me." She took a deep breath, closing her eyes. "I-I am about to get married, with a Bowen, a second son. You do not know him".

Elissa's heart skipped a beat, her mouth slightly agape. It took a few seconds before she breathlessly could reply, "What?". A pause. "You are doing what?"

The members of House Bowen, also Ostwickers, were even more religious and conservative than those of the House Trevelyan, a fact Leona's grandmother, Lady Esme Trevelyan, appraised.

Elissa stood quiet, only to step away so that she could lean against the balcony parapet made of cold, grey stone. Leona paced towards her, and after throwing a look back into the ballroom, she placed a hand on Elissa's lower back.

"We could always run away", Elissa said, her voice raspy. "Orlais. Rivain. Antiva?"

"You know as well as I that we cannot do that, Ellie. We always knew this day was coming." Leona shook her head. "If not for me first, so for you."

That was true. Elissa shivered and tears stung her eyes. The nobility's heaviest burden was marriages of convenience. She blinked the tears away, smothering a sob. Tears would only ruin her makeup, and that was something she refused to let happen while attending the Royal Palace.

Mother would have been proud to see me keep my face straight.

"Oh". Elissa's voice was sharp. "I know". She glanced at Leona, not daring to look for too long. She was no longer hers. Her stomach writhed, and she clenched her jaw for a short moment. Has she ever been?

Elissa withdrew her hand from Leona's waist, her chest aching more than she wished to admit.

In the ballroom, music and laughter rose once again, and Elissa was overwhelmed with the desperate urge to press herself against Leona for the last time, cupping her cheeks, place her lips against hers, not wanting to let her go. But she knew she would not. She moved away, not more than a tiny centimeter, creating another universe of nothingness between them.

Leona noticed. We are lovers, she thought. Lovers, soon to be strangers.

Elissa closed her eyes. Not only her's and Leona's hearts and minds were ruled by others. Their bodies were nothing but for trade - sold to connect families, sold to produce heirs. A product of society. And neither of them would object. Because good and proper daughters' did not. They obeyed. Obeyed like the dogs Fereldans loved. Maybe, Elissa mused, that was why the dogs were so loved and appraised?

Leona's bottom lip jugged out, but pulled back into the faintest of smiles. "I…". She cleared her throat. "I truly wish we were allowed to dance."

In the corner of Leona's eye, a moving form caught her attention. Immediately she straightened her back, tilted her chin up. She looked in through the windows, where she spotted Lucille gesture for her to come back in. Leona shook her head, and Lucille raised a questioning brow. Leona presumed that Lucille wanted her to greet some mediocre noble or wealthy merchant. Her aunt took every opportunity she could to strengthen their family's merchant empire - a task now also carried by her.

After making sure Lucille had gone away, she let her fingers brush the back of Elissa's hand. Elissa flinched from the touch. While Leona's heart constricted at that, she would not give up. She let her fingers continue up her arm, to her shoulder, where she caught a lock of Elissa's hair. Briefly, she allowed herself to toy with it, wanting the moment to last a little longer.

_Please. Give me something to remember, something to cherish._

"Ellie". Leona hitched a sob, a knot growing in her chest. "I am not doing this out of my own free will. Father says if I do not get married soon, he will send me to the Chantry. Ellie, I… You must understand! I am tired of being locked away from it all. Marriage is the only way to be free."

When Elissa did nothing, said nothing, Leona let her hand fall. Fearing her knees would buckle beneath her, she turned around, beginning to walk back into the throng of fur-lined velvet dresses and gold-embroidered tunics to meet with her great aunt.

"Marriage is just another prison, Leona."

Elissa's voice cut through the cool air, causing Leona to stop by the entrance. She looked back over her shoulder, letting her fingers curl into a fist.

"We will see," Leona said slowly, shaking her head. "We will see in a few years, which one of us is the happiest".

Then she left, with a courtly smile plastered on her face, prepared to meet whatever people Lucille wished her to.

Because she was good and proper.

Elissa did not know for how long she had stood there on the empty balcony, but long enough for the chilly air to make her shiver. She had tried to smother her sadness, thinking it was for the best that things ended between them. But in the end, tears had won and her cheeks were now damp and puffy.

Her hands clenched at the thought of Leona, even though she knew it was childish to feel anger. Leona had no other choice but to follow the will of Lady Esme Trevelyan. The children to nobles had no volition. Elissa swallowed. She was very well aware that she herself was like a free-roaming dog - unleashed but owned, and if Eleanor and Bryce decided to arrange a marriage...

Footsteps clattered against stone, and Elissa's heart began to hammer against her chest. With a careful smile, she spun around expecting to see Leona return to her.

It was not.

Instead, a few years' older woman donned in armor came to stand in front of her, and she looked at Elissa with a concerned wrinkle between her brows. Elissa blushed – she must have looked dumb smiling to a stranger like that, and mumbled something unintelligible before trying to step past her, back into the ballroom. The woman reached out a firm hand, and calloused fingers grasped around Elissa's wrist. Elissa tried to yank herself free from the grip, but it was for naught. She was too weak, and the woman strong.

"Lady Elissa Cousland, I presume?" the woman asked with a gentleness not matching the tight grip she held. Elissa nodded with her brows furrowed, and the woman in armor performed a half-bow.

Elissa let her eyes wander from her wrist along to the other woman's hand, slowly following the armor covering her arms. She did not stop until her gaze rested on the newcomer's face. Her face was nothing like Leona's. This woman's face was a bit weathered, and a red, glowing scar crossed her cheekbone. Some feral strands of night-black hair framed her features, escaping the simple ponytail that kept the rest of her hair out of her face.

The woman's bronze eyes were soft like the edge of a blunted dagger - as if they were not used to show sympathy. The light from inside the ballroom reflected in the armor that was polished to perfection. By her hip, there hung an impressive sword sheathed in its decorated scabbard. Elissa's eyes lit on a part of the decoration she knew well. The insignia belonging to House Mac Tir.

The older woman chuckled lightly at the wide-eyed girl, and patted the sword's pommel.

"You may call me Daryn, if you'd like, and you may call her the Summer Sword".

The woman then let go of her wrist and Elissa's muscles relaxed as she exhaled in relief. She remained still, not sure if she wished to go inside. Who was this woman, and more importantly - what did she want?

Elissa nodded again, her tongue feeling numb. "Well… Um…".

Her face grew scarlet, and she hid her mouth behind her freed hand, faking a cough. She hoped that Daryn with the Summer Sword had not heard her stammering.

"Of course… Ser?", she tried, wishing another chill breeze soon would come to cool her warm face. "Pardon me for my rudeness, but I am not sure what title to address you."

Daryn leaned her forearms against the stone balustrade. The metal covering her arms clang as it hit the rough stone, and Elissa gritted her teeth. By the sound of it, the perfect-conditioned armor should have received a scratch.

Daryn, however, did not seem to either notice or care.

"Ser is correct, Your Ladyship. I'm in Teyrn Loghain's service," Daryn answered coolly. She had seen Elissa many times when she and her family visited both Gwaren and Denerim. " Maybe you know of me as Ser Cauthrien".

She hesitated a little, her eyes lingering on Elissa's damp cheeks, before bringing out a handkerchief . She proffered it to Elissa, who with trembling hands accepted it and turned away, wiping her face with a motion that made her look younger than she was .

"Thank you", Elissa's lips curled upwards in a wan smile as she returned the cloth. Daryn looked at the damp handkerchief in her hands. It was smudged with kohl. "And you assume right, Ser Cauthrien."

Elissa swallowed, trying to contain her voice so it would not rise in awe. Everyone in Ferelden had heard the legendary tales of Ser Cauthrien. She was the most important shieldmaiden in Ferelden.

Her contained voice was suppressed and it almost became too leveled, leaving Daryn with the impression that she was another bored, young noble hoping to have a bit of fun.

Elissa tilted her head as her hands brought out a pipe. She put it between her lips, her gaze fixed on the blend as she lit it. Soon enough the herbs glowed, and a small pillar of smoke rose in the cold air. Daryn let her gaze follow the clouds of smoke until they dissolved against the shimmering sky, glad that the wind did not blow in the ballroom's direction.

The silence lay dense, and after a while, Daryn decided it was time to get straight to the point on why she had joined her on the balcony.

"Lady Cousland, I apologize for being so blunt, but I fear that I must ask a favor of you".

Elissa coughed - for real, this time - and her face contorted into a frown. Thick smoke fled her mouth, wanting to leave the scene. Elissa envied the cloudy puffs - she was as eager as them to go away.

Daryn laid a steady hand on Elissa's upper arm - halting any escaping attempts, and bore her eyes into hers.

"Please, be more careful. We are unfortunately not in Orlais, and I would not like to see your honor stained".

Elissa stared at Ser Cauthrien for a few seconds, before a burning flash of anguish ran through her. With quivering hands that threatened to betray her, she managed to take another puff from her pipe. Her lips prickled.

Soon, the soothing inhalation made her feel as if her mind became embedded by a pleasant fog. She relaxed once more, her trembling hands stilling. For a divine moment, she felt as if she was wrapped in a cloud.

Elissa stared at the shining breastplate. It looked soft… safe. Could it be real? She was overcome with the urge to touch it, to make sure such a piece truly existed in the realm of the living. Without further thinking, she brought her free hand to Cauthrien's breastplate and let her fingers drift across the cold metal. Daryn watched her action with a puzzled glance.

"Ser Cauthrien", Elissa finally managed to speak with a mouth drier than the Western Approach. Her fingers trembled anew as she lowered her hand – the untouchable cloud had dissolved into smoke that threatened to suffocate her. She nervously fidgeted with the signet ring she wore, trying to keep her nerves at bay. "I beg you. Do not tell anyone of what you witnessed. She is betrothed …" Elissa trailed off, shuddering.

Daryn removed her hand from Elissa's shoulders. Her palpable anxiety made Daryn tilt Elissa's chin upwards with a gentle movement.

"I promise, lady Cousland. No one has to know."

Daryn's heart ached a little – she was well familiar with Elissa's fear. The fear of being caught and recognized as a sodomite - someone perverted - amongst Ferelden's nobility.

"I… I happen to recognize what you are going through. '' A beat, and Daryn decided it was for the best; "I have been there myself".

Elissa stood quiet for some time, inhaling some more elfroot as she studied the heavenly constellations, pondering what Daryn confessed.

A giggle rang through the air. She stiffened and her head spun towards the couple that stepped out on the balcony before goggling at them, noticing they were not alone. With flustered faces, they excused themselves before walking back in, leaving Daryn and Elissa by themselves again.

The balustrade was rough and the cold stone stung her palms when she leaned her hands against it, painfully aware that Daryn watched her every move.

After a while, a faint smile grew upon her lips and she boldly looked at Daryn who immediately knew what the young woman was about to ask.

"Ser…", Elissa began, something sparkling in her eyes, "may I train with you tomorrow?"

**9.25 Dragon**

**Denerim**

While Anora's eyes narrowed, the ends of her lips twitched upwards. "I gave you this one, Ellie."

Elissa scoffed, dusting off her pauldrons. "If you say so, Your Magnificent Highness." She reached out a gauntleted hand. "Best out of three?"

When Anora hesitated to grab it, one of her guards stepped forward, ready to aid her. She waved him off and clasped her hand with Elissa's.

"Not today, I am afraid. Cailan and I are to ride this afternoon." She huffed as Elissa helped to heave her up, and she wiped away some sweat from her brow. "I believe he wishes to speak about our coronation, now when Maric is…" She paused, her eyes glistening. "Well. I do hope father soon will find him".

"Do you believe the rumors?", Elissa asked, removing the gauntlets and tossed them on the dusty sparring ground. "That the Orlesians' have him?"

"Ellie." Anora lowered her voice. "Shush. Do not speak of such things." She sent her small army of guards a quick glance. While they kept their distance, they stood vigilant, watching her with keen eyes. Anora sighed. They were probably more her father's spies rather than anything else. "But no,'' she added in a hushed whisper, her face turned to Elissa. She suspected the guards were trained in lip-reading. " I think that father fabricates those lies, because he so deeply wishes them to be true".

"Hmph". Elissa leaned down to bring up the blunted sword from the ground, sheathing it. Its hilt, warmed by the sun, burned her palms. She looked at Truce who lay panting in the shadow from a tree. She herself could not wait to get out of her heavy armor and take a refreshing bath.

Anora sheathed her own blade. "I received word that Ser Cauthrien should be expected to arrive today."

Elissa's eyes darted to Anora. "You did?" she asked, a little too quickly, a little too eagerly. She felt her cheeks heating, and hoped her face already had reddened from their sparring.

If Anora noticed the eagerness in the question, she was merciful enough not to show it. Elissa watched as Anora pulled off her gauntlets and dragged the locks of hair away from her face, tucking them behind her ear. A part of her wanted to ask Anora if she knew about her and Daryn's tryst, but knew she could not. If the knowledge of their affair leaked out, the Cousland name - as well as Cauthrien's - would be damaged, stained. Something in Elissa's chest constricted at the thought. Somehow, the Cousland name was not as important as her parents' opinion of her. If Bryce and Eleanor found out… would they still love her? Would Fergus?

"Yes", Anora said, her ice-blue eyes meeting hers. Her face was, as always when she wanted to, unreadable. Elissa squirmed beneath her gaze. She did not like it when Anora had the upper-hand, not when she herself often struggled with keeping a straight face.

"Father sent me a message saying that she is returning to temporarily take his place as the general. Now when Cailan is to become king… and I queen, we need to have a functioning army."

"... If anyone thinks otherwise". Elissa sterned her face. "I would rather let my head roll than deny you or Cailan what is yours".

Anora smiled faintly. "I know,'' was all she said.

"Poor Cailan", Elissa murmured. "First Rowan, and now Maric. I can not even imagine losing my parents."

For a second, something that resembled sorrow flickered over Anora's face.

"Did I say something wrong?"

"No, no. But you know Cailan." Anora dropped her gauntlets to the ground, her eyes downcast. "He is not able to manage this… situation, admirably. And rather than seeking my comfort, or his uncles' advice…", Anora shrugged.

Elissa stood quiet, chewing her lip. "He seeks it in your lady-in-waiting?"

Anora tensed, her eyes boring into Elissa's. It appeared as her lip trembled, but when she spoke, her voice was steady. Elissa thought she must have imagined it.

"_And_ Bann Franderel's daughter. _And_ the girls at the Pearl. _And_ apparently, at least one from the Alienage. Yet..." Anora bit her lip. "Yet I love him."

"He will be your king."

"Stop it, Ellie. He means more than that. He is _Cailan_. Our Cailan. You do remember him, do you not?"

Elissa took a step towards her, putting a hand on Anora's shoulder. "I do remember", she said, face softening. How could she not remember the boy who used to crown their heads with garlands of flowers and weeds? Who used to laugh with them until their nans hushed them? "You mean more to him than anyone else, 'Nora. It is your counsel he seeks, not theirs. He ambles the gardens with you, not them. And we both know how much he detests walking."

Anora put her hand over Elissa's, a sad smile gracing her features.

"Thank you. I needed that." She then straightened her back. "Will you meet me tomorrow, to try out some new dresses? If you are to be my new lady-in-waiting, Maker knows you need some."

Elissa whistled for Truce, and he immediately came running to her side. He sent Anora a glare, causing Elissa to smile. He had not yet forgiven Anora for saying she preferred cats over dogs. The irony in that the becoming queen of Ferelden liked cats more was not lost on her.

"Hah, of course,'' said Elissa. "Send me a messenger when you find some free time".

Anora gave her a long look, her face inscrutable. "I will not have too much to do. Maybe it is better if it is you who send word for me."

Elissa's brow wrinkled. "Why?"

Anora whirled around, preparing to leave, looking back over her shoulder. A servant boy scurried forward, picking up her gauntlets. Her guards squared themselves and saluted, ready to accompany her.

"From the information given to me, I received the impression that Ser Cauthrien wished to lecture you on a foreign battle stance. I would not want anyone to interrupt your important training," said she and sauntered away with her entourage in tow.

Elissa, with one hand petting Truce's ear, froze as she stared after her.

The sun had set and darkness cradled the city of Denerim. Only flickering lanterns lit the alleys and streets, shining like stars in the distance. Elissa leaned against the window frame, her breath fogging the cool glass that protected her from the harshness the capital's streets at night could offer.

Elissa liked the nights. Her gaze followed a patrol walking down the streets, their murmurs and clanking footsteps traveling through the air. This was the only time she could be to be herself, the only time she was allowed to actually find out who this 'herself' was.

Humming on a melody Nan used to sing to her as a child, she brought up her pipe and lit it, the window ajar. She glanced at the naked woman who laid over the sheets, reading a book in the light of the crackling hearth. While Daryn could take an occasional puff from the pipe, she was not fond of having the smell lingering in her private quarters for too long, saying that it did not look good for one of Loghain's closest men to smoke elfroot, a lieutenant at that.

Daryn raised her bronze eyes from whatever she was reading, landing on Elissa. "What is on your mind?" she asked.

Elissa shrugged her shoulders. "I have just missed you", she said, simpering.

Daryn's eyes softened, small wrinkles appearing at the edge of her eyes. "And I have missed you." She patted the mattress, closing her book. "Come here, my dove."

Elissa went to the sooty hearth and emptied her pipe before sliding under the sheets, placing her head on Daryn's bare chest. Her fingers mindlessly began to trace her abdominal muscles, pausing at the elevated scars, while Daryn scratched Elissa's scalp with slow circular motions.

It did not take long for Elissa to get over her first flame, Leona. A week after Leona's eighteenth birthday she and that Bowen boy got married. With that, Leona stopped responding to Elissa's, no more than friendly, letters. Leona had made a choice and now Elissa told herself that Leona was nothing but a memory, something that belonged in her past.

Now, Elissa was with a real woman, who knew so much more about life and the pleasures of the flesh. Elissa grinned as the welcomed elf root daze filled her. Daryn would never get married for prestige or status, no; instead, she fought for her position. Earned it. Ser Cauthrien was all about duty, honor, and loyalty. All which were traits that Elissa awed.

Daryn's hand stilled. "I just remembered,'' she exclaimed and jumped out of the bed. She leaned down to her clothes that were scattered all over the floor and searched in her pockets until she found what she sought and brought out a letter. "This came for you earlier. I told the messenger I could bring it to you".

Daryn handed Elissa the letter which was sealed with scarlet wax, marked by the Teyrn of Highever's unique sigil.

Elissa's brows knitted together, and her eyes flickered between the letter and Daryn. "Why would the messenger give you this?" she asked.

It was without any judgments and questions Daryn replied, "When he could not find you, he sought for me, knowing I probably would know about your whereabouts."

Elissa's cheeks reddened. "Oh."

Well – Daryn was loyal to her liege and country, at least. They had never promised each other exclusivity, which Elissa thought was fine because Daryn was away quite often. But when she was here, in Denerim, Elissa knew that her knight never looked at anyone else but her.

As time went by - slowly, when Daryn was not around and Anora busy with her responsibilities, Elissa had dared to make a few acquaintances herself. She was not proud of the fact that she had become a regular down at The Pearl (and it was probably just there - at the Pearl - she was when the messenger wished to deliver her the letter), but she was proud over her discretion.

Elissa would rather die than bring shame upon the Cousland name. Daryn and Elissa were alike on that matter – they both valued reputation.

Cauthrien fell back down on the bed and kissed Elissa's neck, and Elissa ripped the letter open, unfurling it. After reading it, Elissa took a deep inhale, and stared into the hearth's dancing flames.

Daryn took the opportunity to drink in Elissa's naked body; let her fingers trickle up her lover's spine. Elissa looked radiant in the red light from the fire - she was a natural beauty with her waist-long chestnut hair. Her face had a breathtaking set of cheekbones, and Daryn could not help herself from leaning forward to plant a light kiss on her proud jaw that almost always was held up high; a manner Daryn had found that most bluebloods inhabited.

Elissa did not turn her face towards her, but continued to stare into the flames, hands still on her knees.

"What did your father write?" Daryn asked after a while.

Elissa let out a sigh before she muttered; "Fergus is getting wedded in a few days. I can not believe I have not heard of this earlier". Still focused on the sizzling fire, she began to stroke Daryn's cheek with the back of her hand.

Daryn knew how close the Cousland siblings were, and Elissa had told her more than once that she was afraid that he getting married would put an end to that.

"Father wants me to return to Highever to attend the marriage…", Elissa paused and bit her lip, fearing it would quiver. "He does not want me to return here. He says that he and mother would appreciate it if I resumed my studies. He – eh, I think it is better if you read it yourself".

Elissa handed the letter to Daryn. Two small lines appeared between her brows as she skimmed through it.

"So, people are talking", Daryn said flatly, putting down the parchment. She closed her eyes and listened to Truce's snores, Elissa's irregular breaths. With them gone, her chambers would be awfully quiet, leaving her alone with only the fire's sparks. She shook her head.

"I have really tried to be careful." She buried her face in her hands and Cauthrien's always square stature drooped. This was the first battle in a long time, she could not see herself win; they both were defeated with no opportunity to defend themselves. The malicious whispers of the Court could be their end. "Then you must leave, my dove. We… I can't have you further scandalized. This was never my intent. I wonder how they found out..." She trailed off.

It was hard, but she tried to sound as indifferent she could. Elissa finally turned her beaten eyes from the fire to Daryn, and they were filled with the anguish of being caught and defamed.

"Then I shall, Ser". The edges of Elissa's lips twitched into a failed smile. Daryn embraced her and Elissa was glad to hide her face in her neck, not needing to feign any faux emotions. Daryn's warmth radiated to her own skin, leaving Elissa with a false sense of security.

In this room, at this late hour, nothing bad could happen to them. All responsibilities were hours away. They had _now_.

Elissa blinked away burning tears, knowing that it was time for her to accept her own fate, just as Leona had accepted hers. Elissa was not prepared to forsake her own family for love, and even if she was, she knew that Cauthrien never would allow it.

"Father wants me to depart in the morrow."

"I know, Ellie,'' Daryn murmured, her hand stroking Elissa's back. "I know. I… just don't want to let you go. Let us have this moment."

The next day, when the sun reached the zenith, Ser Cauthrien and Anora waved her goodbye as the carriage began to roll towards Highever.

She let her go.


	2. Chapter 2

**9.30 Dragon**

**Castle Cousland, Highever, Ferelden.**

_'Fore the Seawolf's ire, no man could stand _  
_Soldier felt his death was close at hand _  
_Two great steps back did he retreat _  
_And the cliff side crumbled 'neath his feet._

"Wake up, sleepyhead." Iona shook Elissa mildly. "You have to sneak out now if you don't want to get caught... again."

Elissa growled and pulled the blankets tighter around her before opening her eyes.

"You drank even more than Lady Landra yesterday", a fully-dressed Iona chuckled lightly, "so I understand if your head hurts. But you really need to get up, Elissa. Landra wishes to travel back to Denerim tomorrow morning, which means that my schedule today is quite hectic".

Elissa dragged herself up into a sitting position and moaned, tired and sickly. Bile soured her throat and she let heavy eyelids close over her dry eyes, praying to the Maker that the nausea would disappear.

Iona smiled wanly as she leaned over Elissa and kissed her cheek. Iona's loose hair tickled Elissa's neck, and her breath smelled pleasantly of mint. How long had she been awake?

"I have put your clothes there," the elven woman pointed at a chair next to the oh so damn bright window, "and I suggest you take a bath so you can make yourself presentable. You… " Iona smirked as she crinkled her nose, "_stink_."

Elissa waved her off mockingly, managing to send Iona a mischievous smile despite the queasiness. "Ah, begone!" She had to clear her throat before continuing, "And - just so you know...". She winked her eye. "It is Truce and not I who smells".

Iona snickered as she shook her head, disappearing out the door to meet her mistress. Elissa fell back down on the soft mattress, and it bobbed erratically. It was nice to be alone - her every word was almost caught in the sticky web of viscous saliva that harbored her oral cavity. While she smacked her burning mouth, Elissa thought about the upcoming evening. Her chest fluttered with excitement as she hoped that she could pay Lady Landra's charming lady-in-waiting a visit the following night as well.

Ever since Iona lost her beloved husband to a fatal disease two years earlier, she had searched comfort in House Cousland's favorite black sheep. They had quickly come to enjoy each other's undemanding company.

Elissa buried her face in the crook of her elbow, trying to keep out the bright morning light. Lady Landra had always been a dear friend to Eleanor Cousland, and whenever Landra Loren visited Highever, or the Couslands' visited them in Denerim, Elissa would seek Iona out. She had even met Iona's daughter, Amethyne, who had come to be very fond of her. Elissa's chest grew warm as she thought about the child. She had already made plans to help the girl get a more than a decent position at Highever when she came of age.

She blinked her eyes rapidly in a try to get her swimming mind to clear. Her eyelashes tickled the skin on her heavy arm, and Truce's bored huff forced her to get up from the heavenly bed that still smelled of Iona. Truce cocked his head, contently watching as his mistress finally got dressed. He waved his tail languidly as he followed Elissa back to her own quarters.

Upon arrival, she asked a passing servant for hot water and did as Iona kindly demanded her to do – she took a long, rose-scented bath.

"Aunt Ellieee!" Oren shouted when he laid eyes on Elissa and Truce as they entered the dining room. How someone could sound so overjoyed when it was not even noon, Elissa would never understand. The young boy jumped down his chair and ran up to meet her. Elissa smiled as she hunkered down, reaching out her arms just in time for him to crash into her embrace. He squealed happily as she lifted him up in the air.

"Sweet Andraste!" Elissa exclaimed, putting his weight onto her hip. "You get heavier and heavier for each day!"

Fergus and Oriana remained seated at the table, holding each other's hands. They smiled at the sight, and Elissa waggled her brows to them. While Truce barked in jealously of the affection between Elissa and her nephew, her gaze began to wander towards her mother. Her visage shadowed. Eleanor did not look up from her nearly empty plate.

Elissa held in a sigh and tried to shake off the feeling of rejection. "Good morning", she instead bid them, while doing her best to keep her face and still damp hair away from Oren's sticky fingers.

"Good morning, Ellie. How" - Oriana narrowed her sculpted brows - "are you feeling?" The Antivan woman sounded worried, and Elissa casually fell down on a wooden chair with Oren still clinging his arms around her neck. "You do not look your very best," she added swiftly.

Elissa rolled her eyes at her sister-in-law's well-intentioned remark as she petted Truce's head. He squinted, pleased to get his share of attention.

"I shall be honest with you. I do not _feel _like my very best", she answered dryly before placing a kiss on Oren's forehead. He protested loudly and Elissa let him down. It did not matter how much she loved her nephew - the boy could be a whirlwind, and she breathed out in relief as Oren turned his attention to Truce.

Fergus creased his brows at her answer, glancing at their mother whose countenance had adopted a subtle frown.

"Is it so?" He asked her. "Did you not sleep very well?"

"Oh, I slept well. Might have had a glass too much last night, though." Elissa grinned. "Gilmore must feel even worse than I." She looked around the room. "Do you know where Father is?" she asked him while nodding thanks to the servant who placed a plate with pudding in front of her. The smell made her face blanch. The plate scraped against the wooden table as she pushed it away from her.

Fergus released Oriana's hand and lifted up Oren who now wanted to sit in his lap. "Ehrm... I think he is out, preparing for Howe's arrival."

"That is right. Is Nathaniel coming as well?" Elissa snorted a laugh. "I would absolutely adore seeing Gilmore beat him again. And," she added, "I firmly believe that Lord Dairren would..." - she wiggled her brows suggestively - "_enjoy_ a sight like that as well, if you do not mind me saying so."

"Enough, Elissa!" Eleanor intervened nasally. Her eyes darted to her only daughter for the first time this morning. "I am tired of your childish innuendos. Enlighten me. Where were you last night? – oh, don't you dare answer that." She pursed her lips and stared right into her daughter's widened eyes.

Eleanor had gone to Elissa's bedchamber the night before in hope of a chance to talk, only to find that she was not there - doing Maker knows what. She had heard some most concerning rumors about Queen Anora's inability to become pregnant. Eleanor shook her head. It did not take a lot to drive a young, divided country like Ferelden into a rebellion, and Eleanor had seen revolts that had been born from lesser problems than a barren queen.

Oriana swallowed. It was a rare sight to see Eleanor lose her temper. She leaned down to her son and whispered in his ear, telling him that he probably should leave the adults alone for a while. Oren nodded to his mother. He could with a child's intuition feel the tension that suddenly filled the room. Discreetly he slid down from his father's knees and ran away without protests, with his nursemaid at his heels.

Fergus' eyes were filled with sympathy as he looked at Elissa. Beneath the table, he squeezed his wife's hand, trying to show her that she need not worry.

Elissa stared at her mother for what was not more than a split second before she looked away, but it felt undoubtedly like an eternity. Her heart began to beat against her chest. Elissa detested conflicts, and she detested the fact that she always was a disappointment to her parents. Nobles all over Ferelden were well aware of the shameful scuttlebutts that claimed she was a lady lover. Eleanor, and to a certain degree Bryce, had begged Elissa to marry, join the soldiery or even become a sister in the Chantry. Elissa had done neither, and now here she was, 22 years old, drinking and smoking and...

"I… Excuse me, Mother. I think I will go out to see what father is up to."

Elissa hurriedly left the dining room with slouched shoulders. Her cheeks burned as she could sense her family's gaze at her retreating form. She refused to begin this morning by bickering with her mother. Elissa opened the heavy doors which led her out to the courtyard before the concierge even had time to react. The courtyard was crowded with servants, guards, horses, and knights. In the midst of it all, she spotted her father. He stood tall, conversing with a Rivaini man. A man Elissa knew very well.

"Warden-Commander Duncan!" Elissa couldn't help but smile when she approached Bryce and the slightly older man clad in armor. Duncan, a Grey Warden, had grown up in Highever and had been a childhood friend to her father, before moving away after the death of his parents. As an adult, he had retaken contact with Bryce, and never let it go too long between seeing him. She had therefore known him since a tender age, and considered him an uncle. "How pleasant it is to see you here."

Duncan bowed slightly and returned her smile. "Good morning, Your Ladyship. I can only say likewise. You look well."

Before she had any time to answer, Bryce began to speak. "I hope your mother was not too hard on you, Pup". He put a gentle hand on her arm – he noticed that she looked a bit dispirited despite her smile, and Eleanor had earlier that morning complaint to him about Elissa's improper behavior... like so many times before. "You know she's only worried about you". His voice was soft, and Elissa felt a faint blush creep back onto her cheeks as Duncan nodded in agreement.

Duncan didn't know the full story, but knowing Elissa, he had his suspicions of what bothered the Teyrna.

"And before I forget, Pup, Nan wanted me to tell you to go see her as soon you were able – she was quite hysterical". Bryce scratched his greyish stubble, pondering what could have made the old woman of steel upset.

"Well," Elissa drawled – her mother would have scolded her for that improper behavior as well, "It is way too early to be berated at yet again, so I better hurry to see her. Father, Commander."

She gave her father a quick kiss on his cheek and nodded Duncan farewell before she steered her steps to the kitchen where Nan resided. Elissa ended up spending the forenoon there, trying to calm down the older woman who was frantic after an encounter with rats.

Nan often seemed to be a fearless woman – Elissa admitted that she even could be somewhat intimidating at times, but if it was something that could frighten her, it was rodents. When Nan finally was composed, she offered Elissa some cookies and porridge while telling the young woman the story Elissa always wanted to hear as a small girl around bedtime.

_"Before our fathers' fathers came down from the mountains a warhound was born to the elder bitch of a tribal chief. They named him Hohaku and gave him everything. He grew up a fine, strong pup, destined to be the partner of the chief's eldest son. Hohaku grew prideful. The young hound became arrogant, taking food from his kin and warning them – in the way of dogs – that the chief's family would punish them if they tried to attack him. Years passed, and the time for the chief's son to take a war hound came closer. Hohaku's pride swelled, and many people of the tribe came to the chief, quietly whispering of his dog's bullying. With each complaint, the chief saw only Hohaku's strength and pride, and sent his people away. But as his son grew, the chief watched more closely. The day might come when his boy's life would depend on this dog. If the humblest of his people would not trust Hohaku, how could he?_

_When the day came, Hohaku sat proudly, waiting to be called. But the old chief chose Hohaku's brother as his son's hound. Hohaku was shamed, but felt no remorse. So great was his rage that he darted across the fire pit and bit the chief's hand. The chief and his son struck at Hohaku, cursing him. The hound ran into the village, seeking shelter in the tents and kennels. The other dogs snapped at him, and the tribes people threw stones at him. Before the chief could reach him, the tribe had torn Hohaku apart."_

Elissa smiled as Nan spoke with the gentle voice that so many times as a child cooed her into slumber, while she struggled to eat what she was served due to the lingering hangover; she hadn't the heart to say no. It was Nan who had raised her – she was Elissa's nursemaid before she became the castle cook, and Elissa often said that she was lucky to have not only one but two mothers.

"And the moral of the story is that I shall be aware of what price pride can bring," Elissa smirked. "Mabaris may tear one apart."

"Don't be dim-witted, dear lass." Nan shook her head, but she spoke with a mild tone. Her grey hair was like always tied in a strict bun - Elissa had only seen Nan with the hair down once, when she as a youngster had walked into Nan's room while she bathed. Elissa remembered that she thought that she'd never seen anyone more beautiful than her – not even her mother who was renowned for her looks. Maybe, Elissa mused, it was because Nan was more like a mother to her than Eleanor was, who was busy ruling the teyrnship with Bryce. Nowadays, Nan looked frail and weary, but she still had a spark in her stern eyes.

"Now, Ellie, go do something more useful than speaking with a boring crone like me," Nan said after Elissa had finished her plate, before ordering an elven woman to wash the handpainted porcelain.

Elissa sniggered. "You are no crone, Nan. Believe me when I say you are stunning." Elissa hugged the old woman and Nan huffed, but returned the embrace, patting Elissa's back with fingers thick and crooked from arthritis.

"No more cookies for you, lassie, when you're lying like that".

Elissa was indescribable glad she had Nan in her life – one could almost not believe that this hard-nosed woman accepted her and her ways more than Eleanor did. Elissa gave her a long look, and something in her chest twisted. Guilt weighed her shoulders as she guessed to why Nan was so dear to her and Fergus.

Nan had never married or gotten any children of her own, and Elissa knew that Eleanor was to blame for that. Elissa could vaguely remember that when she was young, Nan had a suitor. Eleanor had refused to let them get married, and the seafarer had left Highever for good. He had, in spite of his dipsomania, given the impression of being a decent man.

Eleanor might have thought her decision had saved Nan a lot of heartaches, but Elissa feared it was the opposite.

Nan turned her back to Elissa and put a piece of floury dough on the bench before her. With bony fingers, she began to knead it. The familiar display made Elissa wish to give her another embrace, but knowing Nan wouldn't want to be disturbed, she left without another word.

Later that day, when the rain had subdued – it almost always rained in the Storm Coast - she sparred on the muddy ground with her friend Ser Gilmore, one of Highever's soldiery's upcoming talents. Dairren, Lady Landra's son, watched them fight with their blunted swords wearing an amused smile, discreetly cheering for Gilmore. Elissa thought it was quite humorous – Eleanor had once insinuated that both Dairren and Gilmore would be decent husbands if they were not too low-ranked, but failed to see that Elissa wasn't the only queer being within Highever's mighty walls.

Eleanor no longer spoke about marriages for Elissa's sake, though - she had given up her hope on seeing her daughter wedded. Elissa was ashamed by that and felt as if she failed not only her parents, but the Cousland name, only by being herself.

She no longer tried to be in Eleanor's good grace.

Elissa let Gilmore win the round – he needed Dairren to praise him before leaving for Denerim. Elissa suppressed a knowing smile as Dairren slapped Gilmore's back. Gilmore wasn't as fond of whores as Elissa, and who was she to let him become a eunuch already before Dairren went away? She swung her sword in the air as the two men left the sparring ground.

"See you later", she called after them. Dairren embarrassedly rubbed his forehead, while Gilmore only grinned at her over his shoulder, waving a gauntleted hand.

Sweaty and weary, she was off to change her armor back to a gown, but found her family dining with their guests outside, while the rain blessed them with its absence. Eleanor - clearly in a better mood, gestured to Elissa to join them.

"... I was quite the battle maiden myself, in my day. But I think it was the softer arts that helped me land a husband", Eleanor told a slightly intoxicated Lady Landra who snorted a laugh.

Oriana inclined her head in a greeting as she noticed Elissa, before she sent her mother-in-law a crooked smile. "Where I come from, a woman fighting in battle would be unthinkable". Elissa could listen to Oriana's Antivan accent all day - especially now when she spoke with a silvery voice. Fergus, clearly not as impressed by his wife's accent, scoffed in response.

"Darling", he said, "from what I have heard, Antivan women _are_ quite dangerous."

Oriana gave her husband a playful hit on his upper arm before she refilled his cup. "With kind words and poison, maybe", she smirked softly and Fergus raised his brows, vividly gesticulating at his cup.

"And this says the woman who serves me my tea!" He chorted and leaned towards her, kissing the corner of her lips. Eleanor let out an amused puff of air through her nose, before sending Bryce an affectionate glance. It was first then she turned her gaze to Elissa who awkwardly stood next to them, with hands clasped behind her back.

"Come here, my girl", Eleanor finally said to Elissa and reached out a hand to her daughter, not minding the dirt that covered her armor.

"Oh mother", Elissa jokingly frowned in response, "I'm hardly a girl anymore". Elissa's eyes lit on Iona who sat next to Lady Landra, and Iona's lips were curled into a half-smile. Elissa knew that Iona was to tease her about this in private later, and she could not wait. Eleanor, unaware of the look that was exchanged between her daughter and Lady Landra's lady-in-waiting, laughed lightly. It was a delicate sound, and the stories said that men had proposed to her only after hearing it.

"Indeed, my sweet Elissa!", Eleanor uttered, her voice turning softer with every syllable. "I turn my back and here you are, a fine young woman in your own right... But, that doesn't mean I have to like it."

Elissa squeezed her mother's hand, knowing this was the teyrna's way to apologize.

Fergus' face got shadowed by a distant look in his eyes, and he emptied his steamy cup in a long drink before he rose up, estimating the time by studying the sun that hid behind dark clouds.

"Pardon me for leaving", he told them, "but I fear that I have preparations I must attend to". He was trying to sound tenacious rather than glumly. Oriana winced at his words, and sorrow painted her pleasant features. He proffered his wife a steady arm which she accepted, albeit reluctantly, as if she wished to postpone it. Oren, busy playing with a pile of crumbles, lifted his head and wrinkled his small nose, trying to understand the sudden change in the atmosphere.

"Come, my son", Fergus commanded Oren softly, and the young boy cast Elissa a puzzled glance. She nodded to him, and with a high, dramatic sigh he slid down from the chair to join his parents. The three began to walk towards the castle, their footfalls heavy.

Elissa's shoulders slumped, and she bowed her head and looked at the droplets that still clung to the blades of grass at her feet. How could she, even for a short second, have forgotten about the Blight that threatened to swallow them whole? Or even worse, how could she have forgotten that her beloved brother was to ride out and fight the horrible creatures Nan scared her from when she was young?

Elissa couldn't blame this on her hangover, no, only her selfishness. Elissa lifted her head and met Duncan's eyes. Ah, so that is why he is here, she surmised, to either recruit Gilmore or brief Fergus and Bryce about the upcoming battle against the darkspawn. Elissa clenched her jaw, and Duncan watched the muscles on her jaw twitch before Elissa remembered her place and let the mask of a diligent noble's daughter become predominant.

_Sod it. I need a drink, _she thought as Fergus and his family disappeared into their estate, where he was to prepare himself for his departure.She excused herself to those left at the table and sneaked into the wine cellar, hoping Nan wouldn't notice and scold her. Elissa hurriedly grabbed a few clinking bottles and went to her private chambers where she changed from her armor to a simple but opulent, long-sleeved gown that followed the latest Fereldan fashion. As she went through her jewelry and put back on her signet ring it knocked on her door. She quickly hid the wine bottles beneath her bed.

"Come in", she shouted and Fergus stepped in.

"My dear little sister", he said tenderly and pulled her into a tight embrace, leaning his chin on her head. "I was afraid I wouldn't be able to find you and say goodbye". His beard tickled her scalp, but soon he shifted his posture and kissed her forehead which, despite a quick wash, still tasted of salt. "Will you please, please take care of my family for me while I'm away?".

Elissa hugged him back despite his hard, uninviting breastplate.

"I promise if _you _promise to come back home". Elissa felt tears burn behind her eyes, and she shuddered before she gathered herself. "How am I supposed to sneak away from mother when she only has me to concentrate on?"

Fergus laughed at that, a rumbling sound, and Oren and Oriana entered the room. Elissa withdrew from his embrace, feeling as if she was the one who intruded. Oriana's lip quivered and her eyes were red from the silent tears that softly fell onto the floor. Her tears reminded Elissa of drizzling rain. Fergus turned to Oriana, and tenderly kissed her tears away.

Oriana subtly shook her head and tried to straighten her back. It was as if she wanted to appear as strong and confident as the teyrna she one day was to become. Oriana knew she still had a long way to go before she was to resemble her mother-in-law. Elissa watched as Fergus whispered something in her ear. Oriana smiled through her veil of tears, and it was first then he took a step back from his wife. He grasped her still slightly slouched shoulders with his large hands, trying to support her.

"Dry your eyes, my love, and wish me well," he murmured before he crouched down to Oren who watched him with excited eyes, not understanding the severity of battles.

"Is there really going to be a war, Papa? Will you bring me back a _sward_?" Oren asked him while playing with a scrap of metal on his father' armour.

Fergus scoffed, trying to lighten Elissa's and Oriana's moods. "My favorite son," Fergus tousled the little boy's hair fondly, "I promise that you will get to see a sword up close real soon."

"I am your _only_ son," Oren protested.

Fergus' answer was interrupted by shouts and horses' neighs out from the courtyard.

"Well, my dearest family," he said and looked at them all, squaring his shoulders and let his soft gaze be replaced by a sternness unfamiliar to them. "That's my cue to leave. Will you see me off, sister?" he asked Elissa.

She cleared her throat, but instead of answering, she found that she could only shake her head, incapable of speaking. Elissa ignored the questioning look Oriana sent her. Fergus inclined his head in a nod and hugged her once more.

"Don't do anything I wouldn't do," he said and snickered. Oriana smiled faintly at his remark – they both knew very well the traits Elissa inhabited. Elissa snorted, but Fergus saw a wan smile tug the corner of her lips. Content, he turned around and lifted his son up into his strong arms, and grasped his wife's hand again with a tenderness Elissa envied.

"Off I go! So many darkspawn to behead, so little time," he called from the hallway, and Elissa stared after them as they walked away. When they disappeared, Elissa went to her window where she saw her parents giving their emotional farewells to their only son. Waving to his family, he mounted his horse and his kaddis painted mabari, Hohaku, tensed as he prepared to follow his master, the commander Highever's army. Elissa held her breath as her brother glanced up to her window, nodding a farewell.

As Fergus began to ride away with the majority of the Couslands' troops at his heels, Elissa threw herself on her bed. She opened one of the hidden wine bottles and lit her pipe stuffed with elfroot and tobacco. Her arm hurt – she guessed a bruise was going to show - where Gilmore had hit her earlier with his blunted sword. The elfroot soon fogged her mind; she was now numb to both the pain in her arm and Fergus' departure.

After what felt like hours, Eleanor entered her room holding a food tray. Eleanor narrowed her eyes when she saw what her daughter was doing, but chose not to comment it - Fergus had just left them for a battle that would go down in the history books. Elissa pushed herself up into a sitting position when the door creaked and her face grew crimson. She was just as ashamed every time her mother witnessed her somewhat decadent behavior.

"Why didn't you knock?" Elissa wondered while smothering a cough, staring at the tray, "And why not send a servant?"

"You need to eat, my dear child, and I rather see that it is done myself." Eleanor said as softly she could and sat down on the edge of her daughter's bed. "I know we have our differences," she continued and put down the tray with cheese and bread beside Elissa, "but you know I – we, love you." She sighed and Elissa couldn't bear to look at her. "I just wished you took better care of yourself. I... I want you to be happy. Even though I may not approve of everything you do..." Eleanor let the unsaid words hover in the air instead of finishing her sentence. By now even Elissa's ears were covered in the strong reddish hue – Eleanor wondered if it was because of what she said or the alcohol.

After a moment, Elissa found the courage to meet her mother's eyes that held the same color as her own. Bryce always said to them that the color reminded him of a mysterious, enchanted forest.

"I love you too," she said with a careful smile. The words sounded strange, and Elissa felt that they did not come as easily as they did when she was a child. "And I am sorry I always seem to disappoint you, mother. I have been thinking..." Elissa hesitated and moved closer to Eleanor. "Maybe I should get married. Or at least join the army, and try to achieve knighthood." A beat. "It would have been easier if you just had allowed me to be a squire when I was younger, you know."

"I know, dear, I know. Well, as long as you don't join the Grey Wardens, I'll be satisfied." Eleanor smiled and stroked her daughter's cheek. The Grey Wardens were only honored in the time of a Blight, otherwise, they were forgotten. The Order consisted of many great fighters, but also of criminals and bastards with nowhere else to go, which did nothing to improve its reputation. "I overheard Duncan speaking to Bryce about the Blight, and how they need more recruits. I do not wish to see both my children fight those vile creatures."

Elissa reached for her mother's hand and lowered it from her cheek, but didn't let it go. She hummed before musing aloud, more to herself than Eleanor;

"I wonder if he is to recruit Gilmore?"

Eleanor squeezed her daughter's hand before she rose up. "We will see what they say in the morning, before Duncan is returning to Ostagar. It would be a shame to lose Ser Gilmore to the Order, when he serves us so well." A beat, and Eleanor's voice bristled. "I hope your brother will come home soon, safe and sound..." Her eyes welled with tears and Elissa could only imagine how it felt for a mother to see her only son pick up his arms in a war against something as unnatural as darkspawn.

Then Eleanor clicked her tongue and shook her head. With those two motions, she had gathered herself. "Eat now, my dear Ellie. Tomorrow Oriana and I have decided to see if we can get you a new dress".

"Thank you, Mother, for the cheese and bread." Elissa dared to wink to Eleanor and knew she was in no position to decline the next day's event. "It was exactly what I needed."

Through the open window, a blaring horn alerted them of an approaching company.

"That must be Howe," Eleanor said as she went to the open door, leaning a drumming hand against the doorjamb. "When you've eaten, I hope you will come down and join us. I've told Nan that we would like to have dinner served in three hours."

"Not another marriage proposal, I hope?"

Eleanor scoffed. "I hardly believe even Thomas would risk any heart-tearing rejection from you. Not when Nathaniel wept so."

Elissa nodded, smiling widely. "Good."

Eleanor gave her a last glance before she left, shaking her head. Both of them felt that their chests were a bit lighter after their conversation. Elissa dragged the full tray next to her. With a piece of newly baked bread in her hand, humming on a melody she'd never earlier heard, she lit her pipe anew.

"Wake up!" Iona shouted to her while shaking her ferociously by her shoulders. Elissa's of sleep blurred vision could still distinguish that her lover's face was blanched and contorted by fear. "Elissa, by the Creators, wake up!", she repeated, her voice more desperate.

Elissa jolted up as Truce's barks intensified – she was wide-awake, with only the quilt covering her naked body. Confused by the noise of chaos, she felt a thousand questions dart through her mind. People were screaming, metal was clashing and Truce barked at the door with raised fur and bared teeth.

"What's happening?" Elissa whispered with a parched mouth as she tried to take it all in, and Iona violently shook her head. She did not know either. The terrifying sounds of foreboding footsteps and the screams of both men and women closed in to them. The footfalls stopped outside Elissa's door and Iona stared at her lover with panic glistening in her eyes.

With a loud bang and the shattering sound of the wooden lock breaking, the door was thrown open. Truce whimpered and Iona, the beautiful, innocent Iona, slowly looked down to her chest. With a surprised, blanched face, her trembling, delicate fingers sought the fletching that belonged to the arrow that had pierced her chest.

The men who'd opened the door vanished as soon as they had come, not even entering the chamber, and Elissa ran to Iona as she swayed, knees suddenly weak. Elissa managed to catch her before hitting the stone floor. The elven woman clutched Elissa's wrist with a blood-smeared hand. A stray tear drifted down Iona's pale cheek, and hoarsely she sighed her daughter's name.

"Amethyne..."

After a minute, her rough, ragged breathing stopped and a heavy sigh left her parted lips.

"Iona?" Elissa whispered, hardly audible. When Iona's darkened eyes blindly stared back at her, Elissa raised her quivering palm and, hesitantly at first, slapped her cheek. No response. Another slap. Cold sweat erupted on Elissa's skin and shivering, she put her lips against her's. They were still warm, but she received no response. Slowly, Elissa pulled back, gently holding her palm against Iona's cheek.

The only time Iona had not returned her kiss was their very first one - a memory that this moment felt so very distant. Elissa dragged a hand through her tousled hair, her eyes mindlessly searching for help in the room's countless decorations. There was nothing there that could resurrect the dead. Her eyes returned to Iona. Blood began to pool on the carpet.

Iona did not wake up, as no emotions can awake a heart no longer beating. Truce whined and bumped his head on Iona, knowing something was amiss. Elissa curled Iona's heavy head in her lap, and carefully, she caressed her blond hair, unaware of that she was smearing blood onto her with every stroke.

The surrounding chaos was muted – in this room, there was only apathy. It was first when an alien cry ravaged through the night that forced Elissa to return to the present. Oriana's anguished wail tore the veil Elissa had raised around her. In a matter of seconds, Elissa realized it was the scream of Death and she quickly rose up and pulled on the first tunic and pants she could find.

The bright fabric stuck to her blood-stained skin and was immediately discolored. Elissa did either not notice nor care, and hurriedly, she grabbed her sword, the one with the Cousland emblem engraved. With her heart in her throat, she sneaked through the littered hallways to her mother's chamber. Fearing what she would find, she opened the door ajar. The sight she saw relieved her – Eleanor was prepared to assault any intruder; armed with a sword, still dressed in her nightgown.

"Sweet child!" Eleanor cried as she recognized her youngest whose hands and face were covered in blood. "Are you alright?"

"Mother, Iona is..." The words choked in Elissa's throat and her body shivered. "They killed her, mother. They _killed _her. Why? What is happening?"

Elissa's held the hilt of her sword so hard her shaking knuckles turned white, and Eleanor gave her a quick hug, knowing Elissa never had experienced the horrors of battle. Eleanor felt sorry for the elf. She had known about Iona's and Elissa's affair – Landra had told her of her suspicions, and Eleanor had greatly disapproved of their liaison - until now. Her heart gnarled in a most painful way when she saw her daughter's pure sorrow. Iona had never done anything wrong, not _really_, and Elissa...

"Come, dear, you may cry for her later." Eleanor stroked a strand of hair from her daughter's bloodied face. "We must go get Oren and Oriana."

Elissa nodded, reminiscing her sister-in-law's scream, and they began moving to her daughter-in-law's bedchamber. They moved silently and did their best to avoid stepping on the broken items that covered the floor. Eleanor put a finger against Elissa's lips, hushing her daughter, as she carefully opened Oriana's door. The room was dark, except for a wavering oil lamp on the wall. In the lone flame's light, they saw the scene that told them they were too late.

Oren lay on the floor in a large pool of blood, almost decapitated. The whites of his bared spine stared at them through the ocean of black blood. Eleanor closed her eyes as a pain never felt before flashed through her entire being. She almost thought she could hear her heart shriek as it was torn asunder.

The sound of Elissa's retching forced her to reopen them, and her eyes swept to the bed where Oriana laid naked, abused and bruised. From her bare chest steamy blood still poured, as if she in death wanted to drown the world in vengeance for the crimes committed to her and her son. Eleanor clutched a hand against her heart. _Sh__e told me just a week ago that she was with child._

Behind her, Eleanor heard Elissa hyperventilate - her breaths were quick and shallow. Without thinking, Eleanor spun around and lifted her hand, slapping Elissa's cheek, trying to whip some kind of rationality back into her. _I can't lose her as well_.

With big eyes and a hand on her red cheek, Elissa stared bewildered into her mother's eyes.

"Calm yourself, dear! We must find your father and get out!" They could mourn the dead later, and Eleanor felt that the mind of the pragmatic battle maiden she once was returned to her in the hour of desperation.

Eleanor gasped as the door almost unperceivable moved, an armed man soundlessly entered the room behind Elissa's back. Eleanor got in control of her body and moved with swift motions towards him but before he had time to alarm his colleagues. She lunged with her sword and stabbed him in his lung, silencing any attempt for him to cry for aid. Elissa watched as the man fell down on his knees and looked at her mother in horror.

"He is not one of ours," Elissa exclaimed in a breath. Eleanor didn't say anything as she mercifully cut the man's throat, leaving him to bleed to death. One look at the insignia on the man's armor told her that he served Arl Howe. Eleanor saw in her periphery that Elissa noticed that too.

"Mother, Howe... Howe is our friend."

"Shh, my child. Come." With delicate, uncalloused fingers she took a firm grip around Elissa's arm, dragging her until Elissa remembered how to function. Together they ran over the shattered porcelain and glass, heading for the secret exit. They did not feel the physical pain as the shards cut into the skin of their bare feet.

As they opened the door to the shed made for secret getaways, they found that Ser Gilmore, Duncan and... a wounded Teyrn already were there. Eleanor gasped as she saw her husband on the floor, bleeding. Elissa looked at Gilmore who closed the door behind them, prepared to slay any foe that would try to open it. She didn't recognize her friend, whose features were tense and eyes fiery, his spirit prepared to pass through the Veil for their cause.

Bryce stammered and reached out his arms to Eleanor, a movement that drained him of energy.

"Oren... Oriana?" he wondered, breathlessly suspecting the answer.

Eleanor slowly shook her head, and with tears trickling down her cheeks, she embraced her dying husband. "They are gone, my love."

Bryce took several deep, wheezing breaths, touching her hair tenderly, wiping away her tears. "It is alright, Eleanor. It is alright. Do not cry."

"You all must leave, _now,_" Gilmore interjected with a shaky voice that did not match his newfound confident look. Screams outside the shed split the air that smelled of smoke and metal. "I... I will stay here to make sure no one follows you."

"He is right", Duncan nodded in Gilmore's direction. The Commander's posture was straight and his head held high. Only a twitching sinew on his neck revealed his hidden thoughts. "Bryce, my friend, you must get up".

Bryce moaned as he shifted his position to a half-sitting one where his back leaned against the rough wooden wall. "I can't." His eyelids fluttered. "I can't. Leave me."

Elissa had never seen her father in pain. He was the Teyrn of Highever, the Cousland patriarch. His arms were strong, his smile wide, his laughter loud. But in this semi-dark shed, he was pale, his smile long gone and his hair wet with perspiration. The light in his eyes was glowing dim. He was dying, and they all knew it.

Eleanor glanced at her husband and then at Duncan, the tears on her cheeks still. Her jaw clamped as a calm determination slowly got set in her eyes. "If he stays, I stay," she said, steel in her voice. "Duncan, save our daughter."

"No!" Elissa howled, her heart ripping out of her chest. For a split second, she froze, pondering the possibility if this was all a nightmare, but the taste of bile and retch was too real, just as the pain of loss that ran through her like wildfire. "I won't leave you!"

Bryce grasped a handful of fabric in Eleanor's nightgown, pleading in a way teyrns seldom did. "Please," he said to her, choking on his own words. "Go with them, my love."

Eleanor smiled tenderly while she caressed her husband's cheek. The salt tears began to dry on her cheeks, and Bryce closed his eyes as the sensation of her soft palms smothered the pain. "I'll kill every bastard that comes through that door to buy them time, Bryce, but I once swore to the Maker to never abandon you in your hour of need. I will stay and fulfill our vows. I will not leave."

Rattling, foreboding footsteps and the metallic clanking of armor got closer, and men outside their hideout shouted.

"Duncan, save our daughter. Do whatever you must. I will _not_ see her die from Howe's treachery. He has already taken enough from us." Eleanor's voice was firm and she stared right into Elissa's eyes, daring her to object.

Duncan sighed weary and glued his gaze with Elissa's. "I'm sorry Elissa, but I have no other choice." He closed his eyes for a short moment. "I hereby invoke the Right of Conscription."

Elissa stared at him. "What?" A beat before she in ire pushed him, her palms against his armor. "How _could _you? I can not leave them!" Her voice went shriller with every word. "Mother! You will _die_!".

"I am no Orlesian wallflower, dear. I have a sword and I will use it. Gilmore will take care of me. If I die, I will die by your father's side, and there is nothing you can do about it." _Oh, I hope you will find a love like ours one day, sweet daughter. My Elissa, do not care what other people think. I wish I could undo so many things..._

Men started to bang on the locked door and Truce growled.

Bryce licked his parched lips, and his body tensed in pain with every hoarse word he uttered; "Pup. Look at me. We are Couslands, and we do what must be done. You shall always follow your duty, and your duty is now towards the Grey Wardens. You cannot deny the Right of Conscription."

Elissa was defeated, and with hollow eyes, she looked at her parents' who clung onto each other. She understood that she gazed into the eyes of living dead.

"Now go!" Bryce cried harshly, his words dripping with pure desperation. He had accepted his fate, and could only hope Elissa accepted hers. Duncan bowed to them, a last farewell. He, a Grey Warden, held fealty to no country nor man but the Order; still, he would always be loyal to them.

The Commander of the Grey could only do one last thing for his childhood friend; save his daughter. Elissa's breaths were shallow and too fast; her fingers tingled and lips numbed. Gilmore grabbed her upper arms gently and stroked them while giving her a quick kiss on her cheek. His eyes were solemn. In another life, he would have been a valorous knight.

"Live, my friend", he whispered.

There was no time nor words worthy of a verbal goodbye. Knowing that Elissa never would abandon them without a fight, Gilmore could only hope that she one day could understand and forgive him. In a swift motion - before she had time to react, he hit her in the temple with the pommel of his sword. Colors and pixels blinded her vision as pain lanced through her. Failing to grab Gilmore for support, she fell unconscious into Duncan's arms.

Without another word or gesture, carrying Elissa as gently he could, Duncan kicked the secret door open and disappeared into the shadows, with a growling Truce following him.

In the distance, he heard the door to the shed burst open, and the screams of the honorable men left behind pierced through the dense dark.

Duncan could do nothing than try to ignore their dying cries, hoping to fulfill his last vow to them.

He had to save her. No matter the cost.


End file.
